Dwight Yoakam: The Kentucky Son’s Bluegrass Birthright

Country music got to know Dwight Yoakam through radio stations and multi-platinum records, witnessing his distinctive style cut through the Nashville machine in a way that was nearly impossible to ignore. He debuted with 1986’s Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., Etc., landing the first of three consecutive number one country albums and, over the course of his genre-pioneering career, Yoakam has sold more than 25 million records, charted 22 Top 20 singles in Hot Country Songs, won two Grammy Awards (and been nominated for 19 more), and landed nine platinum or multi-platinum albums.

But Yoakam’s introduction to country came up through hollers and Kentucky living rooms rather than with splashy records or big best-sellers. “Here's the thing: I was born in rural, southeast Kentucky, in Pike County. Bluegrass is in your DNA, when you're born there. It's mountain music,” he says. His earliest memory of music doesn’t involve old records or radio shows, but rather Yoakam remembers traipsing up the mountain with his grandfather on Sundays after church and listening to music made alongside ‘coon hunting. “It looked like it might have been an abandoned mining site — a coal mine site that had been left to flood back into a fairly good-sized lake. There were guys walking around with their guitars, banjos, mandolins, playing in small groups, just walking up to one another and just starting to pick. They were out there playing bluegrass face to face with one another. I had exposure to that very young in an absolutely pure way.”

Yoakam’s background in traditional bluegrass and an early affinity for the classics led him to a few starstruck moments throughout the course of his career, some of which hinted that he might be suited to embrace a bit more twang in his regular rotation. Most notably, he recalls recording with Earl Scruggs on 2001’s Earl Scruggs and Friends.

“I was there in the studio in L.A., with Earl and the band were just warming up. Earl and I were playing back and forth and I started playing a melody that came to my head. Earl started answering me on the banjo. Here I am, sitting close to the Jimi Hendrix, if you will, of bluegrass banjo, right? The godfather of modern bluegrass banjo,” he says. They’d originally sat down to record a platinum Scruggs single Yoakam frequently covered, "Down the Road.” But Louise Scruggs came into the studio when they were still fiddling around with Yoakam’s melody of the moment.

“She said, ‘I believe you need to record this.’ I said, 'Louise, it's not really a song.' She goes, ‘Well we need to record it.’ By that point, I was singing some consonants and vowels, which is what I do as a writer when I sneak up on a song. It became the song, ‘Borrowed Love.’ Louise and Earl Scruggs looked at me and said, ‘Well, you're just a bluegrass singer in disguise.’ I said, ‘Probably so.’”

For a man with bluegrass in his bloodline, it’s surprising to hear Yoakam say so emphatically that his forthcoming record, Swimmin' Pools, Movie Stars — a full-length that re-imagines many of his commercial country songs as bluegrass tunes — wasn’t really his idea. It was Kevin Welk — owner of Vanguard and Sugarhill Records and eventual executive producer on Swimmin’ Pools, Movie Stars — who approached Yoakam’s team with the concept. Label obligations and release schedules got in the way, but when the timing was finally right, the label was ready: Americana super-producer Gary Paczosa and producer/songwriter Jon Randall Stewart committed to the project and had hand-picked an all-star lineup of a band to back Yoakam, too. Award-winning players like guitarist Bryan Sutton, banjo and fiddle player Stuart Duncan, bassist Barry Bales, and banjoist Scott Vestal make a convincing lineup alone and, with Yoakam on lead, the project was bound to go somewhere special. But the producers had landed on something Yoakam hadn’t planned — to re-record his old songs with a new twist.

“Melodically, these songs were predisposed to it — that's what I think Gary and Jon thought,” says Yoakam. “And I've always pointed to that when I did interviews: There's a lot of bluegrass, melodically, in what I write."

Those traditional bluegrass sensibilities were just waiting to bubble to the surface, and they lend a new life to lesser-known singles like “Free to Go” and “Home for Sale.” Even casual fans of Yoakam will delight in more popular numbers like “These Arms” and “Guitars, Cadillacs” with their old-fashioned harmonies and quick instrumentals. Nuances in the vocals on Swimmin’ Pools, Movie Stars are a giveaway that Yoakam isn’t just dabbling in tradition: This is an album he was meant to record. Varying his inflection on old lyrics, his performance feels warm and complementary — at times even reverent — to the harmonies beside him and the deft picking in the backdrop. What gets Yoakam talking fastest about bluegrass music and the “bluegrass way” of doing things, though, isn’t one of his own songs — it’s the record’s album closer and lone cover, a rendition of Prince’s “Purple Rain.”

“We tracked 13 tracks in four days,” he says. “The third day of tracking, I went in and, that morning, when I was getting ready to leave to go to the studio, CNN had breaking news. I happened to look over at the TV and I was in the hotel in Nashville and saw the awful unfolding of the news that Prince had died so suddenly and so tragically, so alone.”

Get a bunch of musicians mourning a genius in one room, and you’re going to come away with some good listening. They worked through “Purple Rain” right there, testing it out and ultimately tracking it live before setting the recording aside.

“Just the moment — it was just the emotion from everybody in the room. I didn't touch the song again for about three weeks,” Yoakam says. “I didn't listen to it. I thought, ‘We're probably not going to put it on the record. It was nice to do.’”

Prodding soon came from Paczosa and Stewart, who had left Nashville before the final day of recording and simply saw the raw recording among the other audio files for the upcoming album. The two producers asked Yoakam if they could try listening to the track for the record. “We played it, put it on, and it was what it is, what you hear [on the record]. In fact, I left the scratch vocal on it. I did a harmony. It's exactly as we played it that day about four hours after everybody heard he died,” Yoakam says. “I think, because of that, it had an emotional expression that you couldn't have in any other moment.”

Many of the moments that foreshadowed Swimmin’ Pools, Movie Stars were similarly off-the-cuff experiments in the studio over the years. As Yoakam verbally picks apart the hours that built up to the “Purple Rain” cover that eventually made the album, it grows clearer that this album fusing his songs with the traditions and the twang that built him was more about him and his roots than he first implied.

“One of the things that probably seeded that moment in my mind was Ralph Stanley,” Yoakam notes. “He cut one of my songs, 'Miner's Prayer,' and I recorded one of his songs, 'Down Where the River Bends.' I had always been a fan of the Stanley Brothers. We cut it, as he would say, ‘in the mountain way,’ with Curly Rae Kline on fiddle. It was done around the microphone with a live band in a circle, playing those songs. They looked at me and said, ‘Dwight, I believe you might be a bluegrass singer.’ I said, ‘Well I guess it's somewhere in my birthright.’”

 

For more Artist of the Month coverage, read Dacey's profile of bluegrass phenom Sierra Hull.


Lede illustration by Cat Ferraz.

Ned Luberecki Shares His Banjo Mastering Secrets

The banjo can be an intimidating instrument — listen to an Earl Scruggs tune and you may become convinced you need an extra set of hands to pull off those lightning-fast rolls and leads. Luckily, though, there are a number of resources out there for those of us not blessed with the natural musical ability of our bluegrass forefathers. One of those resources is the Complete 5-String Banjo Method series by Ned Luberecki. 

Luberecki is a renowned banjo player known for his musical work with Chris Jones & the Night Drivers and for his contributions to SiriusXM’s Bluegrass Junction. He’s also a banjo teacher in Nashville, Tennessee, a gig that helped him hone the material that would become the Complete 5-String Banjo Method after he was tapped by Alfred Music Publishing to helm the project a couple years back. The series — which is broken into Beginning, Intermediate, and Mastering levels — is a crash-course in all things banjo, from learning those first rolls in the Beginner book to understanding the intricacies of classical music theory in the Mastering edition. 

“I’ve been teaching banjo since the 1980s,” Luberecki says. “I’ve looked at all the other banjo methods that are out there and I’ve seen most of them. Of course I’m familiar with some of those written by my heroes in the banjo world, Pete Wernick and Tony Trischka and Alan Munde. For a long time, I’d thought about doing it not only because it seemed like another opportunity for me to have something out there, but also, the thing that took me so long was to try to come up with my own take on it. Because, you know, let’s face it, when it comes to beginning banjo, you have to start with the basics, which are how to play some forward rolls, how to play some chords, how to read tablature — the same stuff that’s going to be covered in anybody’s book. So it took years of teaching to come up with my own approach, to tailor things to the way I like to teach, as opposed to making it like everybody else’s."

It took Luberecki an entire year to translate that method to the page (and to the screen and speakers — each book also comes with audio and video components), describing the process as “a lot harder than [he] expected.” 

“I played every single note in the book … and that was a long process,” he laughs.

And there were lots of notes. The series is a comprehensive look at not just banjo techniques, but at music theory and history as it pertains to the most important instrument in bluegrass.

“The Beginning book starts with the very basics for someone who has never picked up a banjo before,” Luberecki explains. Beginners will learn rolls, chords, melodies, reading tablature, and basic banjo maintenance before graduating to the Intermediate book, which prepares players for their very first jams and collaborations with other pickers and players. For the Mastering book, Luberecki looks past bluegrass. “I took the approach that the 5-string banjo is being used and accepted in music other than bluegrass,” he says. With that in mind, he introduces players to classical music theory and more advanced musical languages.

It’s a valuable resource for players of any level, one Luberecki would have enjoyed having access to back when he first picked up the banjo during his youth.

“Yeah, I didn’t have a DVD player, that’s for sure,” he says. “I started by taking lessons. I took from a banjo player from around the Annapolis, Maryland, area named Bob Tice. As a matter of fact, people who are familiar with the guitarist Jordan Tice, it’s his father. So I took banjo lessons from him and he started me out with a couple of different method books. I remember one of them that I used was the Pete Wernick bluegrass banjo book, which has been around for a very long time, and also, of course, the Earl Scruggs book, which is great because it had all of those arrangements of classic Earl Scruggs songs in it. So I started by taking lessons from him and from working through those couple of books.”

So, ready to pick up a banjo yet? Luberecki has a final piece of advice. “My biggest advice for anybody who wants to start learning to play the banjo is listen to lots of banjo music,” he says. “You’re never going to be effective at playing it if you don’t know what it’s supposed to sound like. So listen. Find the players that you really like the sound of, find the bands and music that you really like, and ingest as much of it as you can. And go see people play it. Not only does that give you a clue as to how people work with their hands, but it’s just inspiring to go see great live music."

Check out the Complete 5-String Banjo Method series here


Lede photo credit: Me in ME via Foter.com / CC BY

Counsel of Elders: Del McCoury on Finding Your Way

One would be forgiven for expecting Del McCoury, at 77 years old, to slow down and ease into retirement. But the opposite is true. In 2016, McCoury is releasing two albums — a live album with David Grisman and, on April 15, Del and Woody, the highly anticipated studio follow-up to 2013’s Streets of Baltimore. As McCoury accumulates years, he adds projects. He runs his own record label and a yearly festival. He constantly tours and he hosts a weekly radio show. Slowing down is simply not in his future.

Del McCoury is a living legend, having first attained fame in the 1960s as the lead singer in Bill Monroe’s Blue Grass Boys. In the '90s, he reached new levels fronting his own band. McCoury is the link in the chain connecting bluegrass pioneers to the present.

For Del and Woody — and several great albums before it — Nora Guthrie gifted a batch of unrecorded Woody Guthrie lyrics for songs which were never recorded or even musically notated. It was up to McCoury and his band to bring these tunes to life. He did a marvelous job. Del and Woody will not only appease the Del-Heads and Woody fans, but it will also convert new listeners to bluegrass, McCoury, and Guthrie. It is a remarkable album — quite possibly McCoury’s best, which is saying a lot.

This is your first studio album since 2013’s Streets of Baltimore, which won a number of awards. Del and Woody has been talked about for years. This is arguably your most anticipated album to date. How do you feel now that it’s about to be released — relief, excitement? Do you still get nervous?

Well, I guess it’s mostly nervous. It’s a lot of lyrics to remember. I use a teleprompter, there’s so many words. I have another album coming out this year. It’s a live one I recorded with Dawg — David Grisman.

How do you deal with nerves and stress, at this point in your career? Do you have any tricks?

I guess I just stress. Remembering the words is the hardest part. I still get nervous before shows. I think it’s good.

Does it keep things fresh that way?

Yeah, I think so. You know, at this point, I don’t make a set list. We play whatever the crowd requests. We do one show of Woody and Del and then a regular set.

You’re doing two sets a night right now?

We’re doing all of Woody and Del, which is 12 songs, and then do requests for about 14 songs. It’s about 45 minutes each.

Do you find that certain songs are popular in different regions of the country?

Oh, sure. It’s different everywhere, but some songs are more popular than others. The area affects it.

Can you tell me about the genesis of this project — how it came to be?

I was playing a Woody Guthrie festival out in Tulsa. I can’t remember who all was playing. John Mellencamp was smoking — I mean the cigarette kind. He was smoking one cigarette after another. I thought, “That’s bad,” because of his voice.

We sang “Philadelphia Lawyer.” I’ve always liked that song. And [Sings] “I’ve been doing some hard traveling.” When we were done, Nora told me that, if her father could have afforded musicians, he’d have had a band like ours. It was a real honor. In the next breath, she told me she had a bunch of unrecorded songs of her father's and asked if I’d like to record them. Of course, I would.

Were you given the actual handwritten lyrics?

Oh, yes, isn’t that unbelievable? Nora sent over 26 songs. Well, some were copies. They were written between 1930 and 1946. It was his own handwriting. He would draw little pictures. They had the date he wrote them. I guess he was always writing songs. We recorded 14 songs, but put 12 on the record. I’m going to record them all.

What was your process for finding melodies and adding instrumentation?

I read the words and I could hear the melody and spacing and the keys. It was easy. I only had to do half the usual work. He kept real good notes. The dates were on there, and there were drawings.

There are a lot of humorous songs in this batch …

Woody Guthrie wrote a lot of songs. He must have always been writing. There’s a song on here called “Wommin’s Hats.” It’s from his first day in New York, and hats must have been a big thing back then. He got to New York and wrote “This Land Is Your Land” and the next day he wrote “Wommin’s Hats.” You know, he probably wrote 12 songs in between.

That’s a great song. “New York Trains” is one of my favorites, too.

That’s another one. It’s rich in details. It’s all about his family coming to New York.

It still seems relevant, too. The cab ride in the song is $11, which must have been outrageous for back then.

Yep, and there’s the line about the cops making them get off at the stops.

Let’s talk about your early career for a second. You sang with Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys in the '60s. Bill Monroe took a lot of musicians under his wing and served as a mentor and launching pad for their careers. What did you learn from your time with Bill? Was he full of advice?

You know, Bill Monroe didn’t give any advice. The singer before me was Jimmy Martin. He would tell all of his musicians what to play, but not Bill. He didn’t give any advice on guitar or singing. He was a tenor, so he’d sing around the singer. He’d play around the musicians. Bill really set the template for all of us. Before Bill Monroe, there wasn’t bluegrass.

How do you feel about the future of bluegrass? Are there any younger bluegrass bands that you like?

I don’t listen to much new music. When I was younger, if something made an impression, I would remember it forever. It doesn’t happen now. I guess it’s because of the vocals. They all sound the same. The old singers are different. You can tell a Mac Wiseman from a Lester Flatt and a Jimmy Martin. The new ones all sound the same. I guess it’s because they’re trying to copy. I was trying to copy when I started, too. You got to find your own way of singing, doing those things that are different.

So you think the singers need to find their own voice in order to keep bluegrass relevant?

Yes, I would say that. They need to sing songs that they like and in their own voice. You know, my sons play in my band. A couple years ago, I was talking with my manager — I think it was my manager. I was getting older. I still feel great. I can play a 90-minute show and it’s not a problem, but when you get over 70 … I think it was my manager’s idea to send the boys out on the road so I could ease up a bit. We called them the Travelin' McCourys. They got this real hot guitar player. He’s young, used to play with Ricky Skaggs. He’s great.

I’m busier than ever now, though. I have my radio show. I’m playing with Dawg, David Grisman, and we’re doing shows. I have my festival. It’s going good. Real good. And I have my own label. I’m busier than ever.

So your advice to the next generation of musicians is stay active in the industry — don’t limit yourself?

Yes, I’d say that. You need to be out playing and working. And you need to find your own way of doing things.


Photo credit: Jim McGuire

Watch Rad ’80s Bluegrass Documentary ‘That’s Bluegrass’

There's nothing quite like a great, vintage documentary. And one about bluegrass? Well, that's documentary gold, in our opinion. So we were pretty excited to find That's Bluegrass, a late '70s/early '80s documentary that explores the genre's front porch origins and features footage of Jimmy Martin, Ralph Stanley, Lester Flatt, and more.

Director John G. Thomas captures the landscape — physically, in beautiful shots of Appalachia, and spirtitually, by showing the deep roots of the genre's community — through 53 minutes of live performances, candid interviews, and behind-the-scenes footage. Highlights include a young Marty Stuart playing mandolin for Lester Flatt, some insider scoop on Earl Scruggs wanting to hire a guy named "Bill" (that's Monroe, for those of you playing along at home), and footage of Dr. Ralph Stanley, now 88, back in his younger years. Performances include "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" and "The Ballad of Jed Clampett," the latter of which you likely recognize from the classic television show The Beverly Hillbillies

It's so good that Rhonda Vincent herself stumbled upon it, posting a link to Facebook and citing one of the film's best moments — Lester Flatt singing the theme song for Martha White baking products. The documentary also contains the last filmed interview with Flatt before his 1979 death from heart failure at the age of 64.

Check out the trailer and watch That's Bluegrass in its entirety over at Vimeo — a couple bucks if you want to rent it, a few more if you'd like to make it yours forever.

That's Bluegrass from Echelon Studios on Vimeo.

Learn the Banjo from the Comfort of Your Phone

Learning an instrument has never been easy, but there's nothing quite like a good teacher to have you going from zero to Scruggs in 60 seconds (or, more likely, 60 months). And what if you could carry that teacher around in your pocket? Enter Pocket Lick, a new app that could be your banjo Mr. Miyagi.

Bennett Sullivan, mastermind behind the Pocket Lick app, describes it as, "an iPhone/iPad app that demonstrates how to play banjo licks in three different formats — using tablature, watching video, and listening to audio." A musician and bluegrass fan himself — he's played banjo and guitar for 12 years and cites Béla Fleck and Tony Rice as his top two bluegrass artists — Sullivan developed the app so that banjo players can easily up their picking games by ear, by tab, or by using a combination of different methods, all from the convenience of a smartphone. 

"We came up with Pocket Lick because we saw a need for a clean, easy-to-use, and fun learning tool for bluegrass banjo players at any skill level," Sullivan says. "Bluegrass musicians regularly use licks in improvisation and creating arrangements. Essentially, licks are a staple of any seasoned musician’s vocabulary. We wanted to give our users an opportunity to easily learn these valuable phrases so they can sound better faster."

So, for $2.99, users have a veritable banjo encyclopedia at their fingertips, one that continues to prove useful even as their playing abilities improve.

"Pocket Lick is designed with the intermediate to advanced player in mind, but I urge beginners to also try learning the licks included," Sullivan adds. "I’ve always found that I improve more when the challenge is greater, and I always encourage my students to continue to challenge themselves when they pick up the instrument. Using Pocket Lick is a fantastic way to continually challenge yourself, regardless of your skill level."

So, hey, if your New Year's resolution is to channel your inner Béla, put down the tab book and grab your phone.

Learn more about Pocket Lick (and its sibling guitar app) here.

A Legend Past His Prime: Reflections on Aging Artists and Seeing Ralph Stanley Live

In September 2010, I was supposed to see banjo pioneer Earl Scruggs perform at UNC-Chapel Hill with the Red Clay Ramblers. I had a ticket, but something came up and at the last minute I couldn’t go. Scruggs couldn’t perform anyway due to illness. The show went on without him, and his performance was never rescheduled. He passed away on March 28, 2012, and I never got another opportunity to see him.

Back in May, as I left work one night, I reminded myself to buy a ticket to see Doc Watson at the North Carolina Museum of Art (scheduled for June 30th) with my next paycheck. A few nights later, I got off work to find a text informing me of the guitarist’s death. Watson passed on the 29th, three days before that paycheck came.

So it was natural that, when I heard that the legendary Dr. Ralph Stanley was supposed to play at a small venue called the ArtsCenter just down the road from my house in Carrboro, I jumped at the opportunity to be there. Fortunately, there were no illnesses or falls to get in the way, and the show went on as planned. I had expected to be awestruck and delighted, but left feeling more guilty and heartbroken instead.

Don’t get me wrong — I felt honored to be in the presence of one of the last living pioneers of bluegrass. Chills ran down my spine when he sang  “O Death,” and my heart swelled during “Will The Circle Be Unbroken” and “Angel Band.” But the same time, all I could think was “You’re having a good time, but is he?”

Though the 86-year-old Stanley seemed genuinely humbled by the audience’s turn-out and enthusiasm, he didn’t seem entirely “there” for much of the performance. Arthritis prevented him from playing the banjo for all but a few songs. When he sang, it was mostly back-up; even then, he had to be constantly reminded of what song the band was playing. He forgot many of the words of “Amazing Grace.” And on a few songs, his grandson, Nathan Stanley, had to shout lyrics to him as the song was going on.

For the songs Stanley didn’t sing on, he stood quietly with his hands clasped in front of him while the band played and Nathan sang. The audience chuckled at his forgetfulness and the couple of times he sassed Nathan. The younger Stanley is himself a talented performer, with a voice that sounded much more mature than his age might reflect. But it wasn’t quite as fulfilling as hearing Ralph’s legendary timbre.

It was less of a show in the performing sense, and more of a experience that was telling me “aren’t you glad you get to be in the presence of Ralph Stanley?’  that is to say, the whole thing felt more than a little forced. Yes, I was glad. But it’s one thing to see someone who’s glad to be “there” in every sense of the word — physically, mentally, emotionally. It’s something completely different to see someone who’s standing on a stage for two 45-minute sets, mostly doing nothing.

None of this is to say that performers must be put out to greener pastures once they hit certain ages. I’m all for musicians creating and performing long as they can. But maybe sometimes they can’t, or even don’t want to anymore. And when that’s the case, shouldn’t we respect that? Even if that means I miss seeing another genre giant, I think — I hope — it means the image of their enormous talent lives on in our collective memory a little bit longer.